Dreams and Pride
by Serena
Summary: Things may have changed, but dreams and pride remain, don't they? Spoilers for FF7, including Crisis Core and Dirge of Cerberus. Features Zack, Turks, Shinra and others.


A/N : Unhappy with the way things turned out from CC to DoC, this is my own personal take on what could (and should) happen. AU'ed, if you wish :-D

This ficlet is kinda pointless, but it was really fun to write:-D

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**v - εуλ 0010, early autumn**

_The massive, winged body of the legendary WEAPON, Omega, was set aglow the moment a bright, demonic-looking purplish streak struck its core. Omega's gargantuan structure imploded a few moments later, disintegrating into a brilliant mass of energy and fusing solids, and rained shimmering curtains of light upon the ruined city of Midgar.  
_

_In a blink of an eye, an unimaginable amount of pure Lifestream was released into the surroundings, and was sent rushing across continents and oceans on the Planet's surface with ever-increasing intensity, until the whole of the living world became encased, for a few seconds, in a sphere of white incandescence._

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"So… c, c-cold…"

Zack Fair shivered, and pulled his gray blanket closer around himself to conserve what little body heat he had. Unwilling to yield to his misery, he tried to mentally picture himself – a comical-looking, shivering figure huddled under a thick layer of woolly material. Unfortunately, his teeth were chattering so much that he couldn't quite make that infamous grin to stay on his face.

In fact, he couldn't quite mentally picture _anything_ at that point of time. There were just too many questions, too little answers and too much new information, thus leaving a very confused, dazed – but, fortunately, still sane – mind. Zack felt frustrated, helpless, exhausted, and relief, all at the same time.

"Oi, coffee?"

Zack glared upwards from where he was sitting, and thoughtfully considered what the other man offered. He noted that this young man still had that absurdly wild, flaming red hair and wore an even more disgraceful attire that consisted of a crinkled, half-buttoned white shirt, and a messy-looking set of black suit and pants that had seen better days.

Then, his gaze focused on a tempting, steaming mug hovering right in front of him. Ignoring the chilly breeze, he reached out from his comfortable blanket, and carefully plucked the mug from Reno's fingers.

"Thanks.. and I do have a name, you know," Zack muttered between cautious, small sips. Heat and caffeine was probably what his body needed most at that moment, which wasn't all that different from what he needed to start any _normal_ day, anyway, he thought.

Then again, nothing was _normal_ anymore ever since he woke up a few hours earlier. In fact, nothing was ever normal in Zack Fair's life, as far as he knew.

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**(FLASHBACK)**

The first breath was, to put it succinctly in Zack's own language – f-cking, bloody painful.

There were many ways to describe the discomfort, ranging from bone-breaking aches radiating all over his body, an unfathomable dull throbbing in his head, pins-and-needles on his stiff limbs, unpleasant, nauseating cramps in his stomach, and a parched, dry throat, to the feeling of moist grassblades and flowers poking his back as he lay on the hard ground, unmoving, and greeted by the incredible sight of a clear, almost starless, night sky.

He remembered dreaming of Aeris, and he remembered the intricate details on her angelic face, her soft brown hair, and those luscious lips. But then he realized that he was suddenly staring at the face of a blonde female. Her looks were equally sweet and angelic, her golden shoulder-length hair lit up by some lights emanating from the background and thus, creating an impression of where he possibly was.

"Heaven?"

"No such luck, buddy," she replied nonchalantly while checking on Zack's condition. She lifted his arms, bent and lowered his knees, and methodically assessed if he was physically alright. He continued to stare dumbfoundedly, feeling awed and confused simultaneously, while trying to decide if his senses were deceiving him.

"An angel?"

"I'm Elena of the Turks, and you came falling from quite a distance above and from extraordinary circumstances," she gave a small smile, "which probably explains why you're feeling pretty awful right now." Elena then poked Zack's chest, and coupled with a sudden flood of memories of Shinra machine guns aimed at his face, of f-cking bloody painful bullet wounds, mortar bomb burns and nasty deep sword cuts, and of a very tired, exhausted body that had given up all hope of living, poor Zack could only let up a pathetic, choked yelp.

"All right," she said and turned around. "Hey, Rude! I've found another, and this one's okay!" she called out.

Zack could only look on, and felt more confused than ever.

**(END OF FLASHBACK)**

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A soft rustle was heard, and Zack automatically shifted to his side to allow a newcomer to sit down next to him, but he was careful not to spill any of the precious hot liquid in that wonderfully warm mug in his hands. Zack was still wrapped in his blanket, but his new companion was not, however.

"A gil for your thoughts?"

"Just thinkin'… about how it was in the past, how things have changed since then, and what will happen to us in the future," Zack responded while not really paying attention to the other person. He seemed quite absorbed in observing a drama unfolding in the distance.

Just a stone's throw away, Tseng and a couple of burly-looking village men were struggling to hold down an unarmed Second Class SOLDIER who was still in his blue Shinra uniform. The SOLDIER was kicking and screaming, and kept on shouting obscenities, although it was obvious that he was neither hurt nor threatened. Zack wasn't sure if he knew that particular SOLDIER; so many of his comrades had come and gone while he was serving in Shinra, and he reckoned more had "left" on that fateful day when he was on a cliff overlooking Midgar, fighting to his very last breath for freedom.

"How come you didn't freak out like the rest of us?" Zack asked, and finally turned to his companion. He gestured towards the noisy scene in front of them to emphasize his point.

"I still have my pride, Zack, and I don't intend to embarrass myself, unintentionally or not, under any circumstances," came the cool, calm reply.

"You've always said to hold on to your dreams and pride, Angeal. But now…," Zack waved an arm, not really intending to finish his sentence.

Angeal leaned backwards, his hands still on his knees, and rested against a tree trunk. Zack noted that Angeal was pretty much the same as before, with his black hair swept back, that recognizable chiselled look and square jaw, and those strong, broad shoulders that helped to carry a very heavy legacy – the now-lost, Buster Sword.

"But now, things are different," Angeal interrupted, and thoughtfully added with a smirk, "It is my dream to be human once again.. and with that, everything else falls into place."

Zack let out a half-interested "ooh", never quite grasping what his companion meant. Both of them watched interestedly as the unfortunate SOLDIER finally gave in. After listening to what Tseng had to say, he nodded in understanding, and willingly followed the Turk towards a haphazard-looking camp made of well-lit makeshift shelters, tents, caravans and bonfires.

His coffee finished, his body now tingly and warm, Zack placed the mug down when he heard, from a distance, a megaphone announced everyone to gather around for an important message.

"Well," Angeal said as he stood up, stretched, and dusted his back, "Let's head back and see what they've got to tell us, and what to do next."

"…What to do next?" Zack repeated, surprised, and gave a hearty laugh as he rose from the now-forgotten blanket. "Always a SOLDIER, eh, Angeal?" he continued while nudging playfully at his friend.

"There's also pride in staying true to oneself, you know," the older man answered back with a shrug, and began to walk in long strides.

"You're not too bad yourself, Zack. Based on what Reno explained to me earlier, I do believe that you did become a hero in the end, just as you'd always dreamed of," Angeal said with a hint of pride.

Zack gave a sheepish grin, jogged slowly beside his companion, while scratching his head as he didn't know how to reply to that unexpected praise. "Um.. I guess so. But we'll see when we meet Cloud and his friends tomorrow, yeah?" Angeal nodded once, and with a confident grin, broke into a sprint.

Zack followed suit, joyfully calling his friend to wait up, his heart brimming with hope because he missed that spiky-haired blonde so much, and because he needed to ask Tseng about Aeris; he hadn't had the chance to speak to the leader of the Turks since his awakening.

As the two ran forward towards their destination, Zack couldn't help but to recall that single, snow-white wing which Angeal had once, long ago. So much had happened to their world, and there were many uncertainties in the future, but Zack was quite sure he'd be able to live through it all as long as Angeal was around.

"Angeal, those wings of yours… lend them to me as well," Zack thought.

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Rufus Shinra stood on a higher rocky outcrop, alone, while vigilantly observing the bustling activities in the main camp from a short distance away. The autumn chill was in the air, the winds were picking up, and Rufus pulled his white overcoat closer to keep warm.

The young President was rather satisfied with the night's efforts; Tseng had called his cellphone a few minutes earlier, and reported eighty-eight "survivors" rescued from the Lifestream fall. Most of them were Shinra army personnel and ex-SOLDIERs who had been identified as MIA from Shinra's old database, while a handful were Midgar citizens from Sector 7.

He would have to have a word with the head of the WRO the next morning to negotiate the fate of these people, who were in fact, supposed to be dead or missing in recent years.

Eighty-eight people, Rufus sighed, and he rubbed his temples tiredly. In his solitude, he wondered about Shinra's bleak future. There was so much more work to be done to restore their world, and yet, so little time.

Rufus turned around and watched as the latest "survivor" appeared from one of the smaller, less noticeable tents. Rufus had found him just a couple of hours ago in one of the search areas that was not covered by any of his Turks, but he did not inform the rest about the discovery – for a very good reason.

The tall, well-built man in his mid-thirties carefully made his way through to the announced meeting location. His black, leather General uniform was a stark contrast against his long, silver hair, however, he remained unperturbed as shown by his stoic, emotionless gaze.

Eighty-nine, Rufus thought. He could feel another headache coming on.

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_The sheer brilliance of pure white and green slowly receded from the stratosphere, revealing a clear, cloudless nightsky high above the ruins of Midgar. As anxious observers and combatants below recovered from the blinding light, few, if any, noticed stray tendrils of green spiralling gently downwards toward the nearby grasslands. _

_Soon, little spherical flakes of Lifestream began to fall from the sky. One could sense a subtle sigh of both sadness and relief, as cooling, distant winds began to blow across the lands in the aftermath of the disaster._

_Somewhere from the innermost depths of the ruins of Midgar, a one-winged figure clad in crimson emerged, an evil glint in its glowing eyes, and a precious load in its arms. It flew into the moonlit heavens, circled once around its former abode, and then, quietly, disappeared into the night._


End file.
